Still Gilly After All These Years

Jazz musicians normally apply their trade during the nocturnal hours, so it's
a bit incongruous to see bebop pianist Gil Coggins playing at the genteel
hour of five o'clock in the afternoon. Not that Gilly, as his friends call
him, seems to mind. "I get to go home early and get some sleep," he chuckles.
"Or I go to another another gig. This is really just a practice gig." The
crowd at the C-Note, a cozy East Village club where Coggins plays every
Saturday, certainly doesn't mind either. The small but enthusiastic group
quietly watches Coggins perform with the kind of hushed reverence usually
reserved for a chess match.

Gil Coggins, 75, is still best known to most jazz buffs for two recordings he
made with Miles Davis nearly half a century ago, so it's tempting to see him
as a journeyman musician in the twilight of his career. But his is no mere
nostalgia act; Coggins recently put the finishing touches on a new album (his
first since a little-known 1990 Japanese import). The CD, to be released by
the Smalls Records label sometime in the spring, will be called,
appropriately enough, Better Late Than Never.

One would think that releasing what could be considered his debut CD after 50
years of playing with the likes of Davis, John Coltrane, Jackie McLean and
Sonny Rollins would be a cause for celebration, but Coggins is rather subdued
about his newfound success. "I never get excited. I'm too old to get
excited," he says with a laugh. "Once I was touring Japan" -- where Coggins
has quite a loyal following, incidentally -- "and a friend said to me,
'Aren't you excited? You're touring Japan!' To me, it was no big deal. That's
just the way I am."

Such flippancy is not reflected in his playing. When a piano is in front of
him, Coggins is all business. There's no banter with the audience, no hamming
it up in front of the crowd, no cute gestures with other musicians. Head
down, eyes fixed on the keys of his Roland electric piano, Coggins seemlessly
sails through a number of timeless standards, from "In Your Own Sweet Way" to
"Isn't It Romantic" to "I'm Old-Fashioned." On the first set on a chilly
April day Collins plays only with his longtime bassist Mike Fitzbenjamin, and
the two have some wonderful exchanges. Coggins has a light, airy touch
reminiscent of Erroll Garner (and a bit of Bud Powell, too), punctuating his
riffs with Monk-like whole-tone licks. Not surprigingly, he cites all of
those players as his main influences. "If they're good, they've influenced
me," he says. "Erroll Garner, Earl Hines, Art Tatum, Count Basie. I've been
listening to these guys all my life." He's a little sour on the current crop
of jazz pianists, however. "They all sound the same to me," he says with a
shrug.

Gil Coggins' association with Miles Davis dates back to 1943, when Coggins
was stationed in East St. Louis during his stint in the service. Coggins was
jamming in a cocktail lounge in a bowling alley, and his playing caught
Miles' attention. They remained friends, hooking up in New York in the late
'40s, when Coggins was part of Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers and Miles was
beginning to embark on his volcanic solo career. Coggins was toiling on the
New York circuit with Jackie McLean and Sonny Rollins in the early 1950s when
Davis asked him to record with his band. The two Blue Note recordings Coggins
subsequently made with the famed trumpeter -- Miles Davis: Volume 1
and Volume 2 -- feature all-star lineups: J.J. Johnson, Jimmy and
Percy Heath, Horace Silver, Oscar Pettiford, Kenny Clarke and Art Blakey.
Coggins' intro on "Yesterdays" is pure rapture, perhaps his finest moment on
record. (Indeed, Davis had some nice words for Coggins in his 1988
autobiography). Coggins later recorded with McLean on two 1957 Prestige
albums, Makin' the Changes (playing alongside Curtis Fuller, Paul
Chambers and Art Taylor) and Fat Jazz. He also worked with Rollins on
Sonny Rollins Plays (a deleted LP now available in Rollins's new boxed
set, The Freelance Years) and John Coltrane in a date with tuba player
Ray Draper.

It's those recordings, as well as countless gigs with many esteemed
musicians, that have given Coggins such a sterling reputation in jazz
circles. But Coggins is clearly not comfortable with adulation of any kind.
He doesn't mind taking a back seat, as his weekly C-Note appearance shows.
For his second set, Coggins, as his custom, lets members of the audience join
in. Sometimes he gives the stage to them, sometimes he sits in and jams with
them. On this night, Coggins let a young man from France, who didn't seem old
enough to shave yet, play with a few other audience members for lively
renditions of "Have You Met Miss Jones?" and "Sophisticated Lady." Coggins
sat back and smiled as they jammed, like a professor admiring his students.
So does Gilly allow just anyone to join in? "No, no, no," he replies,
breaking into one of his infectious grins. "I have to talk to them first, get
an idea what they're about. The way they talk, the way they act, I'll know
right away. If somebody comes in with an attitude, I'll say no." Always the
improviser.

James Bradley writes about politics, among other matters, for the Village
Voice, among other publications.